The loss in officers in Pickett's division was something fearful to contemplate. General Garnett was killed, Armistead mortally and Kemper dangerously wounded. Of the whole complement of generals and field officers, aggregating about 48, only one lieutenant-colonel was left. The division was nearly annihilated. General Kemper fell into the enemy's hands in field hospital the second day after he was wounded. So bad was his wound, and he was believed to be so near death, that a coffin was prepared for him, which he refused to use. He survived, and afterwards became Governor of Virginia, serving with distinction and much honor from his countrymen. During his gubernatorial term he carried in his hip a leaden bullet of standard weight and size.

Of the wounded in Company D, Lieutenant Stone, Corporal Young, Privates William C. Fortner, James H. Fortner, Jones, Hurt and the writer fell into the hands of the enemy; Stone, Young, William C. Fortner, Jones and Hurt on the field; James H. Fortner and the writer the second day thereafter in the field hospital. Several of the men of Company D in the charge went over the stone wall, only a few getting back, among them Sergeant Taylor, and he wounded. Thomas N. Mustain, a valiant soldier, transferred from Company D to the 57th Virginia regiment, went over the stone wall, and while lying under the captured Union batteries was severely wounded in the neck.

Company E of the 7th regiment had four men—Alec Legg, John Canady, Willis Welch and Joseph Welch—killed during the artillery duel by the explosion of a shell. The company carried into the charge but one officer, Lieutenant Stone, and seventeen men, all of whom except one man were killed, wounded or captured.

Recurring to the wounding of myself at the closing of the artillery duel, I was at my post on the left of the regiment, which threw me under the shade of a friendly apple tree which chanced to stand there. I lay down near Colonel Mayo, of the 3d regiment, and Colonel Patton of the 7th, near the feet of the latter. A little before the artillery fire ceased, a Union battery at the Cemetery on our left front had on us an enfilading fire with accurate range, which threw shell and solid shot into our ranks. A shell from this battery struck the heads of two men of the 3d regiment, taking them off above the ears, exploding almost on me, not only killing the two men and wounding me, but also wounding Lieutenant Brown of the 7th regiment, and another, who lay close on my right. Just a moment before this shell came, I had raised my head up to get, if possible, a breath of fresh air, whereupon Lieutenant Brown said to me: "You had better put your head down or you may get it knocked off." I replied: "A man had about as well die that way as to suffocate for want of air." The words had scarcely escaped my lips when the shell exploded, which for a few moments deprived me of my breath and sensibility; I found myself lying off from the position I was in when struck, gasping for breath. My ribs on left side were broken, some fractured, left lung badly contused, and left limbs and side paralyzed. My Colonel Patton, sprang to his feet inquiring if I was badly hurt. I asked for water, the first thing a wounded man wants, and the Colonel had it brought to me. The marvel is that I escaped the explosion of that shell without being torn to shreds. Harry Snidow and another of my old company brought a blanket, placing it at the base of the apple tree, where they set me up against the tree. Just then the order came for the men to fall in for the charge, which has already been described. Colonel Mayo, after the war, describing this day's battle and the part taken by our division, refers to me as "one left for dead under that apple tree." I still live, while the brave and good Colonel has passed to the Great Beyond.

In a few minutes after the men moved forward, the "litter bearers" picked me up and bore me back into the woods to our field hospital, where our surgeons, Drs. Oliver and Worthington, did for me all in their power. About dark I was removed by ambulance to the shed of a farmer's barn, a mile or more away, on Willoughby Run, to the place where General Kemper had been removed, the farmer placing him in his dwelling house. I visited this same house twenty-two years later, where I saw distinctly the stains of General Kemper's blood on the floor. The shed in which I was placed was filled with the wounded and dying. Throughout that long night and until a little before dawn, I spoke to no one, and no one to me, never closed my eyes in sleep; the surgeons close by being engaged in removing the limbs of those necessary to be amputated, and all night long I heard nothing but the cries of the wounded and the groans of the dying, the agonies of General Kemper, who lay near by, being frequently heard. Everything in the barn was dark, but near dawn I discovered a flickering light advancing toward me: it was borne by John W. Grubb, of our regiment, who had been sent by our surgeon to look after me. Comrade Grubb was very kind to me, preparing for me a day or two later a bed and shelter in the orchard, to which I was removed, but he was taken away a prisoner by the Federals.

During the morning of Sunday many of our wounded men were brought in, among them Captain John H. Parr, adjutant of the 7th regiment, and Lieutenant Lewis Bane of the 24th regiment. Some of these wounded men died during the day.

During Sunday night and the following day the Confederate army was withdrawing from the field. Our brigade surgeon, Dr. Morton, and General Early made visits to the field hospital, urging all the men able to ride in wagons to go, of which a goodly number availed themselves. Shortly after the Confederate rear guard had passed the field hospital where I was, the Federal advance guard appeared, the Federal surgeons taking charge of us.

Lee's army continued the retreat into Virginia, and I did not join my command for service for four months after, at Taylorsville.

Chapter XIX